


Returning For River Song

by Katjae



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Stuff, Timey-Wimey, season 4, vashta nerada episode, wibbly-wobbly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24176431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katjae/pseuds/Katjae
Summary: The twelfth doctor returns for River Song once their last date ends, but has a limited timespace to do so.  He runs into his younger tenth form and they argue for a bit.This is an oldie that I never uploaded before:I think there was a part where I had the twelfth doctor and Donna speak.  If I find that, I will upload it.  Looking through old notes and thought this was a fun piece.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Returning For River Song

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any inconsistencies with the episode, I apologize.
> 
> Edit : For some reason, copying from One Drive Outlook adds more spaces in weird places than in Word. There's probably some weird thing with that. I think I've fixed it now.  
> Sorry about that.

The Doctor slowly returned to his Tardis after his sprint but stopped in his tracks to see a pair of men still standing near the terminal by the rails. Unable to leave himself until all were evacuated, the Doctor eavesdropped on the pair. Lux, the surviving member of the archeology team, had just approached the elderly man with his back leaning on the rails and an open book. 

“Sir, what are you doing?” He interrogated with irritation in his words. 

The man did not look up from his book, but in an annoyed Scottish voice he replied, “I’m in a library reading a book. What does it _look like_ I’m doing?”

“Yes – I mean, no sir. But I don’t think you really grasp the situation. We all need to evacuate. Now. How did you not escape with the others?”

“I’m just waiting to collect my wife. Now get out of my reading light.” The man flipped his wrest in a shooing motion, then turned the pages while the Lux shuffled his feet. 

“Where is your wife? Sir?” The Doctor, who watched the scene, chuckled despite the situation. It had been a long journey. But they really did need to hurry this up, before the shadows hungered.

“Taking her sweet time. Go check some other poor blathering sod. I’m busy.”

“Excuse me,” Lux huffed, visibly angry, “You have to do as I say and evacuate. Find your wife and let’s go.”

“Begone!” The man waived off Lux with sudden anger, but said nothing else.

“Fine! But if you die, that is on you – not me.”

“I’m shivering in my boots.”

On closer inspection, the older man was wearing sunglasses while nonchalantly reading in a library swarming with man eating micro creatures. The Doctor walked toward the man and said, “Y’know, that man is bound to protect his visitors. Don’t make it impossible for him to leave.”

“You heard him. My life is on me. Or, are you about to argue with me, too?” There was an arrogance in the old man’s voice.

“It wouldn’t be good for my conscience to leave you behind.” The Doctor scratched his head, then glanced at the lettering down the spine, “Wait, what are you reading?”

“Does it matter?” He slightly smirked but did not look at the Doctor.

“Actually, yeah,” The Doctor did not look away from the words on the spine, growing more alert with this man now.

“Vashta Nerada. Strangely aggressive for their usual feasting behavior. I suppose that tends to happen to any creature, man or beast, when taken from their natural habitat. No, wait, that’s not all, is there? They were all born here, from converted paper of their ancestral forests.”

“Who are you?” The Doctor asked, “How did you know to look up Vashta Nerada? “

“It’s fairly obvious if you know the signs. I feel sympathy for the collective swarm. This library was built for the preservation of knowledge. Yet, it was by accident that they were misplaced here. There’s no way anyone could have foreseen this.”

“You seem to have more than just knowledge,” The Doctor furrowed his brow, “We never named the threat, only that we had limited time to escape.”

The elderly man closed the book and set it on the rail where something had mysteriously gone missing. 

“Wait, there was a book – a diary – right here. Where is it?” The Doctor asked, but the man turned toward the terminal. The Doctor picked it up and quickly found the page the old man was reading – an entry on their lifespans.

The old man looked over his shoulder, “The swarm recently fed. Considering they survived 100 years without proper feasting, I imagine they could go on for centuries. This place should be deemed unsafe until then. And even after then, I imagine.”

“Who are you telling?” The Doctor asked.

“Anyone within earshot. A general warning. But mostly, myself,” The man touched the outer rims of his glasses, “Hm. Almost complete. I will depart soon, so everyone can escape, since that pleases you so much.”

“What were you waiting on?” The Doctor asked, “It’s not your wife, is it?”

“Of course it’s my wife. She never did make anything easy.”

“Your wife . . . you said you were . . . collecting her,” He said slowly as his face became more perplexed, “Collecting . . . as in . . .? No, that’s not possible.”

The man didn’t answer, but waiting for the Doctor to speak again, he cocked his head. When neither of them spoke, the older man faced the younger counterpart. Finally, one of them found their voice, “Who’s your wife?”

“There are 4022 survivors. Would you know her by face and name?” The white-haired man chuckled, thoroughly enjoying this conversation.

“If I do, what would you say?” The younger man challenged.

“You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

“Is it Professor River Song?”

“Wow. How did you know? I am so impressed,” The Scottish man clapped with a sarcastic monotone voice, “Can you do another trick? Pull her out of thin air, maybe?”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Sure it is! By the time you walk up those steps, the only thing you will remember is hearing an argument between two haughty men. It’ll amuse you for five seconds before it escapes your mind completely.”

“No,” The Doctor shook his head, “That isn’t possible. You shouldn’t even be here.”

“I’m not exactly operating under the best of circumstances.”

“What exactly is your big plan here? You can’t bring her back from the dead.”

“You’ll find out eventually. I’m not one for story-telling.” He faced the terminal by the rail and began typing.

“You said you were ‘collecting’ your wife.”

“I am.”

“But how?”

“What’s the point in telling you? Your memories will be out of sync until you arrive here as me. You’ll forget as soon as you turn your back.”

“But you can’t be here while I’m still here,” The Doctor whispered.

“Do you see the walls of reality collapsing all around us? No? Then pipe down, I’m busy.” The younger Doctor rolled his eyes. The older Doctor continued, “If you’re so worried, then perhaps you should just leave. Thanks for uploading her, but the rest is up to me.”

“So, data transfer then? What good would that do?”

“I didn’t see you arguing when you rushed to save her.” 

“I didn’t expect you would come here and cause a paradox!”

“And yet. . . you are still talking to me.” The older Doctor chided, “Now who’s causing the paradox? Trust me. Whatever you have to say, I already know. I am over twice your age – so please, keep nagging. I love it when the less informed think they know better.”

“You certainly look twice my age,” The younger Doctor mumbled.

“With someone as vain as yourself, I bet you’re just terrified of becoming me,” The Older Doctor took off his sunglasses and locked eyes with the younger version, “The best part is. . . you have no idea when you do.” The older man put his sunglasses back on, then returned to the terminal.

“Your face looks familiar . . . why do I recognize it?” The younger Doctor wondered.

“It took me a while to place it myself.”

“And why Scottish?”

“What?” The old man shook his head.

“Your accent. It’s Scottish.”

“Very astute observational skills, Doctor.”

“Well,” The Doctor shrugged, “I guess it could have been worse.”

“Yes. You could have had an overexaggerated chin.” The older Doctor pat his chin for emphasis and smirked before glancing back to the terminal.

“Oh, I could just imagine that – wait a minute.”

“Spoilers,” The older man’s laughter echoed in the empty chambers.

“Now that is just cruel.”

“Oh, yes. I’ll take my fun where I can,” He backed away from the terminal, “Almost done.”

“You said that a few minutes ago.”

“It’s hovering around 95%. Uploading consciousness and transferring it is not as simple as you would think.”

“I never said it was.” The younger Doctor frowned. “It took a lot of power to return and send off all the survivors.”

“The girl is fried and so are the outdated circuits. She needs to rest. However, if I interrupt the process now, River will be lost. I suppose I need to give a helping hand.” The older Doctor mumbled to himself – calibrating just what he needed. 

“You’re running out of time. The Vashta Nerada are not going to wait forever.”

“You think I don’t know that? I will be fine.” He dismissed. “Go. Make sure Donna is safe. Her untimely death would be a grievous tragedy.” Then he walked away from his younger self. The Doctor glanced over at the terminal and saw that it was twitching to move forward but stuck in the middle of processing. When he took his eyes off the terminal and back toward wherever his older self went, a sudden chill of amnesia struck him.

He shook it off and walked up the stairs, to the Tardis. He remembered something that River said – something about snapping his fingers to open her doors. He wasn’t disappointed to find out that it worked.


End file.
